


Needing Some Help

by ClarenceJ



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bifur Is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Massage, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Pain, Thorin Is an Idiot, headache
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 03:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16778890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClarenceJ/pseuds/ClarenceJ
Summary: The reader is on the road with the company when a migraine comes out of nowhere, but decides to stick around. Not wanting to seem weak, the reader tries to suffer through it but realizes they need help.





	Needing Some Help

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit or any of its characters.
> 
> italics are thoughts, underlined is Inglishmek, bold is Khuzdul

You had been traveling with the company for a little while now after they offered to take you with them at Bag End. You had come into Middle Earth with little to nothing besides what had been in your backpack and you knew you were extremely unprepared. It had been a few weeks into the journey when you felt it, and oh how you wished it would go away. It started in the back on your eye, feeling smaller than a pin prick then it grew into a full-blown migraine that cramped your neck muscles, blurred your vision, and made it almost impossible to speak or move properly.

“We’ll stop here for tonight,” Thorin booms from the head on the line making you squint your eyes in pain as your head throbbed. You look down at the ground with your permanent grimace and almost vomit from how high it looks from the back of your horse. You just want to stay there for the rest of the night and suffer silently. It’s not that you don’t want their help, but they treat you like Bilbo sometimes, like a burden to their company and like you don’t know how to do anything. The last thing you want to do is prove them right and ask them for help or slow them down, so you’ll just keep your mouth shut and ride this one out on your own.

“Y/N, dear, are you alright? You look very pale,” Gandalf says gently as he walks towards your horse. He grabs the reins of your horse as you shakily lift one leg over the side of the horse and slide down only to stand on even shakier legs.

“Thank you,” you slur a little and he looks at you carefully as you walk away. You don’t even hear his question over the high-pitched whine in your ears. The constant bombardment of sounds, light, and motion overwhelm your senses as you try to lead your horse to the rest of the ponies. _‘Stay upright, don’t throw up, stay upright, don’t throw up’_ you repeat to yourself as you walk over.

The next thing you comprehend is dinner being shoved into your hands by Bilbo who looks at you funny. _‘Concerned?’_ you try to place, but your brain protests ferociously at the effort of interpretation.

“Y/n? Y/n?” Bilbo calls again and you finally look at him in the eyes but he's blurry with auras surrounding him, making him look like the sun. “I’ve been calling you for some time now. Are you feeling alright?” You force a tight smile onto your face and nod your head at the sun-faced Bilbo, not trusting your voice. You look at the stew and your throbbing head makes your stomach do flips, threatening to make you vomit like earlier.

“Not hungry,” you say shortly and push the bowl back into Bilbo’s hands. You let yourself fall over against the tree the moment you know he's gone a little further from you. The bark against your skin is a shock to your senses as you try to focus on anything but this agony.

Bilbo looks at the bowl and then back to you before walking away slowly with a confused look on his face. “Has anyone noticed Y/n acting strange lately?” Bilbo asks the group quietly. They crane their heads to look at him and then shake their heads 'no' but still wait for a further explanation from their hobbit.

“What do you mean by strange?” Bofur replies. Bilbo looks over to you and then back to the group around the fire.

“Well I called her name and she didn’t respond at all, she has barely said a word the whole day, and she’s gone pale as a sheet,” he explains back with distress creeping up on him at the thought of you injured for so long. They all turn their heads to look at you curled up next to a tree with your head in your hands and pressing tightly against it.

“If there was something wrong then she’d tell us, now keep your nose in your own business,” Thorin interjects sharply before anyone else can speak up in your defense. They all shift nervously at his glare and continue on with their night in hope of not being his next target.

_THE NEXT MORNING_

The pounding in your head hasn’t gotten any better with the little amount of sleep you got last night. You can feel heavy bags under your eyes pulling down on you. The mixture of pain and lack of food is making you dizzy as you pack your belongings, swaying your way to your horse and then struggling to get on. You try and fail, to block out all conversations in hopes of easing the pain rupturing in your head, but it does no good as it keeps throbbing and bringing random strikes of pain to your eyes and neck. _‘Deep breath in, big breath out, deep breath in, and big breath out’_ you repeat in your head. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and you breathe in deeply again.

Throughout the day the company watches you carefully, but not too obviously. Quick glances at you, little assessments are done while you are unaware and trying to figure out what could be causing you so much pain. Kili is the first one to ride up to his uncle with concern.

“Uncle we need to stop. Something isn’t right with Y/n, she’s clearly in pain and can barely stay up on her horse. She hasn’t said one word all day!” he hisses out and meets his uncles calculating gaze. Thorin’s deep blue eyes take a moment to scan over your slouched over form with precision and he nods his head in agreement.

“We will make camp here,” he calls out to the back of the line, and this time doesn’t fail to notice your flinch and grimace at the sound of his loud voice. “Set up camp, but be silent about it,” he signs in Inglishmek. The rest of the dwarves nod and then glance at you a little, noticing that you haven’t moved or remotely look like you even heard the order. Bofur comes up to you and places his hand lightly on your leg to give you a little pat to rouse you.

“Come on darlin’ let’s get you down and let you lie down for a bit,” he says softly but even that drives nails into your head and you frown deeply making your facial muscles hurt too. The thought of speaking makes your stomach turn.

 _‘Everyone is so loud’_ you think pitifully. You understand what he wants though as you shakily get off your horse once more to slouch on a tree with your eyes closed. The reins are gently pried from your hands by another person with large fingers. More insistent hands guide you over to another tree where you’re told to lay on the ground. _‘What about my stuff?’_ you think blearily but can’t find the strength to say it. Your body feels heavy as lead, and your eyes burn and feel like they’re about to pop out of your head. Weathered hands run across your forehead and you pull your head away sharply which makes the ground under you spin.

There are whispers around you that you try to keep out and don’t focus on their words until the hand becomes more persistent against your skull and around the base of your neck and you whimper loudly. “So it is your head then,” the voice concludes from your reaction. _‘Must be Bofur. So gentle’_ you think lightly. You pry open your eyes to see the whole company staring at you with worry, and yes, Bofur kneeling in front of your body. You shut your eyes to block out aas much light as you can. The whispers get louder as they see you open your eyes and move around, but you grimace when they give little cheers. Bifur growls at them gruffly in their language and it’s silent once again.

The hands don't leave your face and it's sweet sweet comfort that you've been missing this whole time. “Don’t be quiet on my account,” you try to joke, but it comes out slurred and a little messy, but remotely understandable.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong lass?” Bofur asks you softly.

“Migraine,” you mumble. He tilts his head at you in confusion.

“Is that something to do with your head?” he asks again and you give a fraction of a nod. You sigh lightly because you know that he won’t stop bugging you until you tell him, but damn does your head hurt! You'd think that it would have split open by now instead of torturing you like this.

“Headache that makes everything hurt. Light, sound, can’t eat and can’t sleep,” you tell him quietly, but your stomach still turns at it. Bofur frowns at this. _‘This is what happens to Bifur, but she doesn’t have an ax in her head.’_ You peel your eyes open to see Bifur walk forward and tap him on the shoulder, signing something too quickly for you to follow. You close your eyes again, fighting the waves of nausea and hoping that they just leave you alone, and wait for your head to stop hurting.

“Lass, Bifur is asking if he can try something to help,” he asks you and you crack your eyes open to see everyone looking at you nervously except Bifur who looks at you with soft eyes. He signs something again and Bofur frowns a little. “He’s asking if you can take off your cloak,” he says and as Bifur signs something else his frown deepens. He signs something back before hesitating and then turns to you saying, “Is it alright if he touches your hair?”

“Is cold," you slur and Bofur's hands tighten on you for a moment. before giving your shoulder a gentle pat.

"It'll be alright lass. Just give it a chance to settle down," Bofur coos. You crave more of this comfort but in the sweet sense of silence.

"Go ahead,” you tell Bifur weakly. He nods and strides up to you, takes your shoulders gently and sits you upright. The new position makes you whimper and makes your vision go fuzzy so you shut your eyes tightly. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him and his gesture shocks you a little, but now isn’t the time to argue with him. He unclasps the cloak carefully and then puts one hand on your shoulder and the other on the back of your head.

You feel him sit in front of you and pull your body forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder. Your hands lay limply in your lap while he adjusts himself. You breathe deeply and smell the wood and pipeweed on his clothes. That causes your stomach to turn a little less, and then his hands are on your back. He starts a gentle pressure on your shoulder blades and then moves up to the muscles of your neck. His fingers are gentle, but firm, on those muscles as they protest against his ministrations and your head pounds viciously once more for a split second before the pain vanishes. Your shoulders slump against him as you give another whimper at the sweetness of this relief. You also hear Bilbo stutter a little at the sight.

“What is he doing?” asks Bilbo from the side, and this time it doesn’t hurt your head to listen to their conversation.

“He often gets those headaches like hers, so he’s using what he knows to get rid of her pain. I reckon if the lass didn’t ask for help by now, then she wasn’t going to ask Oin for anything to dull the pain. I’d say this way she doesn’t have to take anything,” he tells Bilbo and you want to tell him that he’s spot on, but Bifur’s massage makes it almost impossible. The relief from the pain is absolutely exquisite.

You hear Bofur shoo the others away from the intimate looking scene, which you have to thank him for later. Bifur’s fingers move up to the base of your skull and lightly move the hair out of the way. He makes long motions down the muscles with his hands and then moves one hand to hold the muscles in place and the other to rub the side of your head firmly. You let him guide your head and mold your muscles back into the right spot and work you into putty. It is so wonderful to not be in pain that you don’t even realize when you fall asleep then and there.

Bifur feels you slump against him when he starts and notices the changes in your breathing by the middle. He knows these headaches are tricky and nasty things so he decides not to stop right away and to do more work while you are asleep. He was initially surprised that your muscles were hard as stone and when he pressed against them nothing happened, but your falling asleep is a good sign to him. _‘Poor lass didn’t even know where to start’_ he thinks sadly. He digs his fingers into your muscles using a fraction of his actual strength, but quite tough enough to work out these issues and problem muscles. Your sleeping form slumps even more under his experienced fingers. He works over every muscle in your neck and along your head before he gently rolls you off of his shoulder and lays you on the ground before moving your hair out of the way.

“She should be fine now,” he signs to the group around the fire. The tension that was once there vanishes within a second.

“Poor girl must have been like that for some time for you to work her over like that,” Bombur says from his spot next to his pot. The others around him nod in agreement. 

“Will she be able to travel tomorrow?” Thorin asks him coolly and Bifur nods his head.

**“She should be able to. I’ve had those and that one was quite nasty,”** he says to the group out loud this time, positive that you won't wake for a little while. **“Surprised she didn’t break earlier. **If I think they’re nasty then she must be tough as stone** ,” **he adds and the others blanch.

“I’m not quite sure what you all are talking about now, but she was like this almost all of yesterday,” Bilbo informs them quietly. Bifur raises his bushy brows at the little hobbit in a horrified expression.

**“If what he says is true, then she should have been screamin’ by tonight,”** he tells the group while Bilbo looks on, confused at the different language.

“Why didn’t she ask for help then?” Ori asks quietly and everyone nods and grumbles at his question.

“I have a feeling it’s because she thinks that you would look down on her,” Bilbo says gently. Everyone’s eyes widen and Balin is the first to speak up.

“We do not though. We have given her no implication that we do,” he says. Bilbo gives a heavy sigh.

“Well if you all glare at her long enough then that’s implication enough!” he tells them forcefully and their faces become filled with guilt. “We have both heard our names be used along with the word burden or useless, and this must have been her way of showing that she is not a burden. I would guess that she felt blocked in by this situation as well.”

“What do you mean by that halfling?” Dwalin says snarkily from the other side of the fire.

Bilbo shakes his head at the thickness of dwarves. “What I mean is that if she told you, you would have said that there was no time to stop for something so minor as a headache, and if she said nothing and you found out then you would blame her for being careless and still call her a burden. She was trying to show you that she is strong enough to not need help in this area.”

“But she did, and she should have known her limits,” Thorin interjects from Dwalin’s side.

“I do know my limits master Oakenshield and that was not my limit,” Y/n says as she walks up to the fire. The dwarves whip their head to where your figure stands tall and strong once again. “That was not the worst that I have ever had. That was painful, but I’ve had others that are debilitating, and once in my life that it was genuinely crippling to the point I had to be taken to the hospital for a day while they got the pain under control.” The dwarves look at you with wide eyes and slack jaws. You turn to Bifur with a small smile on your face, “Thank you so much for helping me Bifur. You didn’t have to, but you did and that’s something that I won’t forget, so if there’s anything you ever need then I’ll try to help you,” you finish quietly. He looks at you with kind eyes and gives you the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Well next time don’t be afraid to ask for help from us,” says Bombur softly from the fire. You look over to see all of them looking at you with heartfelt concern and it shakes you to your core at how much you've bonded over these weeks. Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur are the sweetest dwarves you’ve ever met. Really some of the only dwarves you’ve ever met, but the point is that they’re kind. You nod your head thoughtfully as you fully soak in their offer and then smile brightly. Oh, sweet acceptance! You sit down by the fire and just listen as the dwarves start their own conversations about this and that when Bilbo comes up to you with a bowl of soup.

“We’re glad that you’re feeling better Y/n,” he tells you sincerely. “You gave us all quite a scare. Never seen anything like that in my life. I hope I never go through that in my life!” he says exasperatedly as his curls bounce and his eyes bulge for a moment. You crack a smile as you dig into your soup and you smile at the feeling of warmth in your hungry belly for the first time in the past few days. The rest of the night you listen to their stories and make jokes about the little things in life. Traveling with them really isn’t so bad after all.


End file.
